


The Life and Times of Beacon's Heroes

by 8bitalpha



Category: RWBY
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8bitalpha/pseuds/8bitalpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into the lives of some of Remnant's greatest heroes before they were heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Times of Beacon's Heroes

It was the fourth and last time he would be on this airship, coming to this school, with these people. They were the elite, the best of the best. The survivors of battle after battle and war after war. They were the greatest. They were still alive for a  _reason_ \--granted, a reason Olivander Ozpin didn't understand, but it was still a reason.

 

“Nervous?” Glynda asked, forcing him to pause his pacing.

 

“Yeah, sure, I guess you could say something like that.” He answered, heaving in a breath.

 

“You'll be fine. This is our last year, remember? Once we're out of here it'll be wild adventures and crazy battles. Hell, maybe we'll get to fight in the war. That would be awesome.” James interrupted suddenly, gently pushing the girl he was currently sitting with off of his lap to go stand beside his friends.

 

Oz scoffed and rolled his eyes, rubbing his neck. “I'd rather stay out of the war, thank you. You can go murder Faunus and humans alike as much as you please, but I want literally zero part in this war.” He retorted, being sure to keep his voice low. Tensions between human students and Faunus students were not exactly on easy grounds—last thing needed right now was a fight breaking out before the semester even started.

 

“So you're telling me you would rather live a comfortable life with the title of a huntsman?” James asked with a sideways glance, fighting a smirk.

 

“I'm 'telling you' I want to fight for peace. That is what we are supposed to do: protect the people of Remnant. _All_ of them.” Oz snapped, gritting his teeth. _Deep breath, Ozpin. He lives for the fight—you can't blame him for that. Just ignore it._ James scoffed and crossed his arms, his full attention suddenly on the view below him.

 

“Well, I think that's extremely noble, Oz. That's what being a huntsman is about.” Glynda praised, squeezing his elbow.

 

“There ain't a damn thing 'noble' about dying for a bunch of ungrateful stains on the fabric of history.” Bartholomew Oobleck, unfortunately nicknamed Mew years prior, drunkenly mumbled out before draping his arm over Oz's shoulder and leaning on him. “'S a buncha _bullshit_ , am I right?”

 

Oz sighed and glanced around at his friends—the only real friends he'd ever had—and smiled. “Actually, Mew, you're wrong.”

 

“Well, ain't that a fuckin' first?”

 

***

 

The dorms looked the exact same as they had for the past three years: four bare walls, one bathroom, and four twin beds. “Boring,” Mew drawled before collapsing face first on the bed closest to the bathroom.

 

“Any objections to the drunk getting the bed by the shitter?” James asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

 

“You try'n'a tell me I got a problem?” Mew asked, the comforter on the bed muffling his voice.

 

“Nah, I _know_ you have a problem.” James retorted and Oz raised one hand, praying that the same old argument wouldn't start again.

 

“Let's just unpack, please? Classes start tomorrow and the last thing we need is to be late because you two assholes argued the whole night about nothing.” He snapped, snatching his bag off the floor and claiming the bed in the corner. He'd always had a thing for sleeping adjacent to a wall—never could figure out why.

 

“What's up with you, man? You're being a lot more uptight than usual.” James pointed out and Oz squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

 

“It's nothing. Just...unpack and shut up.”

  
***

 

He jolted awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, his entire body shaking. _Easy does it. In and out. Just breathe. Just another nightmare. A recurring nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless. Just a dream. You're alright._ He assured himself over and over again, trying to drop his heart rate.

 

“Oz? You alright?” James asked from the bathroom door, running a towel over his head.

 

It took Ozpin a second to recognize everything that was going on. That he was awake. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.” He answered, cracking his knuckles.

 

“You don't look fine. Look like you've seen a ghost, actually.” James pointed out, crossing his arms. “Mew and Glynda won't be waking up anytime soon. You wanna talk about it?” He asked, surprisingly genuine.

 

“In all honesty? Talking about it is the last thing I want to do. I just want to drop it and go back to bed, really.” Oz snapped, pulling the covers back over himself and rolling over, his back to his friend.

 

“Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm all ears.”

  
  


***

 

“There is no way in _hell_ I am wearing this uniform. It looks just as shitty as last year.” James complained and Oz scrubbed his hand over his face. _You will not yell. **You will not yell.**_

 

“Alright, then. _You_ can get your ass chewed out by the superiors when they ask why you aren't. Have fun explaining that one.” He snapped, fixing the collar on his shirt and stowing his sword.

 

“Mew, help me out here.” James groaned and Mew—already dressed and leaning against the door frame—grinned.

 

“Sorry, James. You're on your own. Uniforms are mandatory.” He explained quickly, downing his coffee in a gulp. James groaned again and trudged to the bathroom to change, realizing quickly that he was outvoted.

 

“He complains about these damn things every year, doesn't he?” Glynda asked as she took her place by her partner's side and crossed her arms. Oz nodded.

 

“Unfortunately. He's starting to sound like a broken record at this point.”

 

“Well, that broken record better start turning. We have class in approximately fifteen minutes.” Mew interrupted, his eyes quickly darting between his watch and their schedule.

 

“Let's just leave him, Oz. He's only going to slow us down.” Glynda suggested and Oz sighed.

 

“We can't leave him here. We won't do it on the battlefield, we won't do it here. We're a team.” He argued, but his hand still drifted towards the doorknob. “Might as well get comfortable, though. Pretty boy in there is gonna be a while.”

  
  


***

 

“Man, Port's gonna kick my ass.” James grumbled as the four raced through the halls.

 

“He won't be the only one,” Glynda snapped, gritting her teeth.

 

“Okay, we get it. Everyone wants to beat Ironwood's ass. Can we just focus here? Mew, what's the number for Port's class?” Oz asked, skidding to a halt.

 

“Room number eighty-four.”

 

“Damn,”

 

“What?”

 

“Passed it.”

  
  


***

 

The lecture had, as they feared, already begun when Ozpin's team arrived to the class.

 

“Ah, Team Onyx! Care to explain why you're late on the first day?” Port bellowed and Oz grimaced, instantly stepping forward to take the blame.

 

“My fault, Professor. I...misjudged the amount of time it would take for us to get ready.” He apologized, throwing his shoulders back and keeping his eyes forward.

 

“Your fault indeed, Ozpin. Take your seats, the four of you.” Port ordered and Oz nodded, slowly leading his team to their collective desk.

 

“You didn't need to do that, Oz.” James whispered as the lecture sparked up again and Oz shrugged, brushing him off.

 

“I'm the team leader. It's my job to take responsibility for what happens to us.” He returned and Glynda pinched their arms, drawing the men back to whatever was happening at the front of the classroom.

 

“Olivander, if you're not too busy gossiping with your teammates, would you kindly give us the pleasure of answering what the weakest point is on a full-grown Nevermore?” Port drawled and the class snickered at at the merciless broadcasting of the soldier's first name.

 

Oz clenched his jaw and stood up, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. “Nevermore are weakest around their neck. But, if I may add, the weakest point of an over-weight and partially blind professor would be around the same area. So it really isn’t a very unique trait, when you think about it.” The quipped remark sent the other students into a deadly silence as they all stared at him, with his arms crossed and shoulders back, undisguised pride on his face. He could see Glynda's jaw drop out of the corner of his eye and James raise his hands to clap, only to have them pushed back onto the seat by Mew.

 

Port stammered for a moment before clearing his throat. “Please see me after class, Mister Ozpin.”

 

“Yes, Professor.” Oz purred, bowing his head and sitting down again.

 

“Dude. You have no fucking idea how badass that was.” James' voice squeaked with excitement when he spoke and Oz smirked.

 

“Trust me. I know.”

  
  


***

 

“You want us to stay behind and wait for you?” Glynda asked when class was over and Oz waved her off.

 

“You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up.” He promised and she nodded, patting him on the shoulder before striding out with the other guys.

 

“Olivander—“ Port started and Oz cut him off, slamming his fist on the table.

 

“You would be doing the both of us a favor if you stopped calling me that. My name is Ozpin. That is what you will address me as.” He snapped, standing up and leaning over his desk.

 

“You would do yourself a favor to stand down, soldier. There are rules here. I will address you as I see fit. Understood?” Port retorted and Oz barked out a laugh.

 

“With all due respect, Professor, go fuck yourself.”

 

Port's eyes widened and he clenched his fists. “You will not talk to me that way, boy.”

 

“Hey, I said 'with all due respect'.” Oz pointed out, tilting his head to the side.

 

“I should surely hope you have more sense on the battlefield, young man. Why do you have such an attitude problem? You weren't like this when you first came to this school.” Port asked, the fight from a moment ago gone.

 

Oz shrugged, twirling a pen between his fingers. “If I had an answer, I'd give it to you.” He growled, practically slamming the pen back down onto the table.

 

Port stared at him for a few moments longer before waving him off. “You're free to go, Ozpin. All I ask is that you be on your best behavior—and, try to dial down the sass, would you?”

 

“I can't make any promises.”

  
  


***

 

Ozpin didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the day, all of the fight drained out of him and his mind constantly wandering back to his dream the night before. That night, he couldn't sleep because of this dream—afraid he would have to live through it again. He'd sooner listen to James fucking some dimwitted girl than have to live that again—like he was doing now.

 

The muffled swears and moans would've disgusted him on any other night, but now he had no choice but to listen and hide his grimace under a mask of peaceful sleep. _How does he do it? It's like he has a new girl every night—how does he even remember their names? Does he? Why am I thinking about this shit? I need to sleep—not listen to my friend having sex. Not exactly one of Mother's lull-a-byes._ He thought, rolling over with a groan to try and add to his 'I'm sleeping' facade. It must've worked, because James and the girl froze for a split second and fell silent—Oz could feel their eyes boring into his back. _God, please just go back to fucking. Anything other than looking at me._

 

He did, of course, eventually have to fall asleep, but he'd hoped exhaustion would give him one night of peace.

 

It didn't.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Can't believe I actually started posting this.


End file.
